


A Night on Darillium

by dragonwings948



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Arguing, Banter, Confessions, Dancing, Eleventh Doctor Era, Eleventh Doctor flashback, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: 2015 Xmas The Husbands of River Song, Episode: s07e05 The Angels Take Manhattan, F/M, Feels, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Memories, Mystery, Nightmares, Paris (City), Post-Episode: 2015 Xmas The Husbands of River Song, Promises, Romance, Running, Serial: s051 Spearhead From Space, The Husbands of River Song, Third Doctor Era, autons, references to, the Doctor tells the truth for once
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2018-08-27 17:47:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8410783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonwings948/pseuds/dragonwings948
Summary: The Doctor and River's 24 year night, starting with the end of The Husbands of River Song and continuing on into feels, adventure, absurd arguments, and, eventually, goodbye. (Other characters/episodes listed in tags are either mentioned or show up in flashbacks.) Current story: Paris Sketches, an adventure set in modern Paris where Autons are on the loose.





	1. The Promise

            “How long is a night on Darillium?” River’s heart beat faster as two seconds of silence ticked by. She held her breath. Never could she ever accept the thought of only spending one last night with the man she loved more than anything in the universe. How could she ever leave him after this?

            Then the Doctor _smiled._ And although his face was new, River knew that smile. It was his smug, saving the day smile. He swiveled his head away from her to hide it, but it was too late. Hope had already blossomed inside of River.

            “Twenty-four years,” the Doctor said, turning his head the slightest bit toward her. Mirth shone in his eyes as he watched her, waiting.

            It took a moment for the words to lodge themselves in River’s brain. Twenty-four years. Twenty-four years with her Doctor. Twenty. Four. Years.

            She could have sworn her heart stopped beating. Yet, she laughed in disbelief. He had done it again, like she had known he would. And all this time he had let her think that they only had one night. Stupid, stupid man.

            Tears stung at her eyes. “I hate you,” she forced out past her swollen throat. Contrary to her words, she took a step closer to him, her shoulder touching his.

            A small smile broke out on the Doctor’s face and he leaned toward her to quietly state, “No you don’t.” His eyes met hers and River couldn’t quite believe that this was the Doctor. He—or anyone else, for that matter—had never looked at her quite like this, like…like he loved her. Like he was falling in love with her again at this very moment.

            The intensity of his gaze forced her to tear her eyes away and look down at his shoulder. She took a deep breath and realised that her heart was pounding away at what felt like an impossibly fast rate. No doubt the Doctor could hear it. Right on cue, his fingers brushed against the palm of her hand, asking a silent question, _Are you okay?_. River took his hand and squeezed it. Cool metal pressed lightly into her skin and for a moment River allowed herself to be distracted by the thought that he wore a wedding band. _A question for later,_ she decided, and stored it carefully in the back of her mind.

            With a deliberate swallow, River looked back up at the Doctor and once again found herself breathless at the look in his eyes. His lips stretched into a small smile and he gently compressed her hand. River wasn’t sure she had _stopped_ smiling since he had told her how long this night was going to last.

            The Doctor’s gaze flicked down to her lips and his chin tilted toward her. River stretched closer to him, raising her free hand to rest it on the back of his neck. And then nothing could stop the inevitable. The Doctor _was_ the sun, his smile so bright it could light up a thousand worlds, his gravity no match for someone as small as her. Yet in all his glory, his eyes remained soft, and River could almost believe that in that moment he was just a man in love, nothing more.

            River’s thoughts came to a screeching halt as the Doctor closed the remaining distance between them. Their lips met in a tentative kiss, touching gently and then separating again after only a moment. River wasn’t sure how, or when, the tables had been turned, but she had never expected to feel shy in the presence of the Doctor, and certainly she had never expected to kiss him like _that._ Somehow, he made her feel like a girl on her first date. As soon as River felt heat rise up to her cheeks she looked down, still so close to the Doctor that she couldn’t tilt her head very far without her forehead touching his.

The Doctor’s body vibrated with a quiet chuckle. River glanced up at him to see that he now wore a huge smile, his teeth gleaming in the golden light. His laughter seemed to be contagious, because River found herself joining in.

            “What’s so funny?” Absently, her fingertips began to stroke the soft curls on his neck.

            Still grinning, the Doctor released her hand and turned his body to face her. “The universe!” he said, his eyebrows rising in time with his voice.

            River shook her head, finding a bit of her usual self again as she wondered, “Should I even ask why?”

            “I didn’t think I would ever see you again! And especially not like…” He gestured to his face. “This. And how we ended up here, of all places.”

            “For twenty-four years,” River added in a whisper, reminding herself of the beautiful impossibility of it all. And yet, as she looked into his eyes, she remembered who he really was. All this tenderness, all this romance, it wasn’t really him. This was the Doctor, the man who couldn’t stand staying in the same place for thirty seconds unless there was some sort of mystery to solve. What in the universe could keep him here for twenty-four years?

            River’s hand fell from his neck and swung back to her side. The Doctor’s smile vanished and his eyes grew wide. “River?”

            She stared at the ground. She couldn’t meet those eyes that had just moments ago been full of love for her. It couldn’t have been real. Her vision blurred as the tears returned. “How long are you going to stay?”

            Silence. Even the singing towers seemed to have paused for a breath. The night was still, and the Doctor was silent.

            “You were wrong, you know.”

            River raised her head to meet his eyes, so earnest and piercing. Before she could berate him for changing the subject, he continued.

            “Back on the ship, what you said about the sunset and the stars…you were wrong.”

            A wet trail made its way down River’s cheek. “No, I was right.” She blinked, and more tears escaped. “We both know you don’t get emotional.”

            “But love isn’t an emotion.” He took her hand and guided it to rest on his chest, leaving his hand on top of hers. Twin heartbeats pulsed underneath her fingertips. “It’s a promise.”

            _Thump thump thump thump._ His heartbeats remained steady, while River could hear her own heart picking up speed and drumming in her ears.

The Doctor’s eyes softened and he pressed her hand closer to his chest. “And River, I promise to stay with you all night. No running, just you and me.” He paused for a moment, adding weight to the next words that he said so carefully, as if they would break when he uttered them. “Twenty-four years.”

            _Thump thump thump thump._ His hearts never faltered once as he spoke. River bit her lip as a sob rose in her throat. She swallowed it back down and found she could only stare at the Doctor as tears trailed silently down her cheeks. For once in her life, she had no idea what to say.

            The Doctor’s lips twitched into a warm smile. “Gotcha.”

            Using her hand’s position on his chest to her advantage, River wrapped her fingers around his tie and tugged his head down to hers. She grinned for a moment at his expression, frozen in shock, and then she kissed him, shifting her hand to his shoulder. The Doctor came to life at the touch of her lips, pulling her into his arms as he kissed her without a trace of the hesitance there had been last time.

            River pulled away first, a bit breathless and unable to keep from smiling. She placed her hand on the Doctor’s cheek and looked right into his eyes. “Thank you,” she said, knowing he didn’t need an explanation.

            The Doctor smiled like he didn’t have a care in the world. River thought she had never seen him so unburdened, so happy. He looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered to him. And for once, she could believe it.

            “Always, River.” He leaned forward and touched his forehead to hers, closing his eyes. River let her eyelids drift closed. The wind picked up and the song of the singing towers swelled to a crescendo, its music so beautiful that River felt tears stinging at her eyes once more. But even more beautiful was the rumbling sound of the Doctor’s voice, barely audible, repeating his promise.

            “Always.”


	2. Their Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's right: IT'S BACK. I simply just cannot leave these two alone. I already have the third chapter done as well so you won't have to wait as long for that one! 
> 
> I just wanted to say, thank you SO MUCH for the amazingly positive response to this fic! :D It really inspired me to keep going with it, and I'm so glad there are people out there who love these dorks as much as I do. 
> 
> This one goes out to all of you. Enjoy.

            “Sunglasses? Seriously?” River leaned her elbow on the table and cupped her chin in her hand, shaking her head.

            “They’re extremely useful, not to mention stylish.” He produced a pair of black Ray Bans from inside his jacket and grinned as he donned them. The ridiculous sunglasses and the Doctor’s wide, toothy smile made for an altogether absurd sight, and River couldn’t help but laugh.

            “And you thought a sonic trowel was ridiculous!”

            “Pfft.” The Doctor removed the glasses, setting them on the table, and rolled his eyes.

            River smiled as she reflected on how similar he really was to the Doctor she knew best. Fezzes, bow ties, and now sunglasses. “You really haven’t changed much at all, have you?”

            The Doctor frowned and raised his eyebrows. “Haven’t I?”

            She met his gaze and noticed, not for the first time, that no matter how many versions of the Doctor she met, he always had the same eyes. Eyes that harbored pain, loss, and the heavy weight of the universe like no other pair of eyes in existence. Wild, intense eyes that seemed like they could burn a hole through a person if they wanted to.

            How had she missed those eyes she would know anywhere?

            The waiter then appeared and brought them their food. The man stuttered and grinned much too wide as he asked them if everything looked to their satisfaction, and River wondered exactly what sort of strings the Doctor had pulled to reserve this balcony. It had to be one of the most sought-after tables in the universe. However, as soon as the waiter was out of sight, the Doctor began the conversation first.

            “So, River Song.” He picked up his wine glass and examined it, turning it around in his hand. “What have you been up to?” With a degree of hesitance he took a sip of the crimson liquid, made a face, and then set it back down. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his nostrils flared and brow furrowed in disgust.

            River covered her mouth with her hand to hide her chuckle. She could handle the childishness of the young, silly Doctor she used to know, but the same attitude on this serious, lined face was just too much to handle. He seemed like such a powerful, stoic figure, but he kept reminding her that that he was still her Doctor; just in an older body.

            The Doctor glanced at her, an eyebrow raised in question. “Do I not want to know?”

            River shook herself out of her reverie. Everything about this: his new face, having unrushed time to spend with him, eating _dinner_ with him for god’s sake; it was all too different than anything she had experienced and she wasn’t quite used to it yet.

            She smiled and raised her eyebrows. “Probably not. You’ve never really approved of what I get up to.”

            “Beheading kings and getting rich?” the Doctor queried with a half-hearted chuckle, though a serious curiosity shone in his eyes.

            River had almost entirely forgotten about King Hydroflax and the diamond (where _had_ that got to, anyway?) in the recent rush of emotion. And remembering that mission stirred up memories from even further back that she had been trying so hard to repress.

            “River.”

            She looked up to see the Doctor staring at her, eyebrows furrowed in concern. His eyes softened in understanding as she met his gaze.

            “When he was reading your diary…he said the last place you had been to was Manhattan.”

            River had trained herself to put up a wall at the thought or mention of that city. She was too much like the Doctor, she had often thought: never wanting anyone to know her true motivations or feelings.

            But this new Doctor had changed the rules. Rather than closing off his emotions, _this_ Doctor had showed no hesitance in telling and showing her how he really felt.

            Maybe it was because of this, or maybe it was because she had missed him too much, but either way, River Song found herself spilling out the truth before she could even think about what she was saying.

            “It was all just a distraction, you know: Hydroflax, the diamond, even Ramon. A fun challenge to keep me occupied.” But even as she said it, a terrible feeling of sadness washed over her, memories of that fateful day coming to the forefront of her mind.

            River cleared her thoughts and watched the Doctor’s reaction. His eyes grew darker, his jaw became taut. No doubt his memories echoed hers. He let out a great sigh through his nose, mouth pressed into a hard line, and River identified this as his “thinking face” (even between two different faces, some things never changed). She knew that only two things could come out of his mouth: the truth, or a quick change in subject. While she had earlier reflected on the openness of this new face, this was a subject she expected him to avoid.

            And yet, speaking slowly and carefully, as if the words were fragile, he said in a low rumble, “I wanted you to stay.” His eyes remained glued to the table and his fingers drummed silently on the tablecloth.

The honesty of his admittance twisted River’s gut with guilt, and she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment so she could remember her defense. “I know.” The words came out as a shaky exhale of air, and River swallowed before continuing. “You and I had to deal with our grief in our own ways. With both of us so upset, I couldn’t stay. You know I couldn’t.”

The Doctor’s stare could have bored a hole through the poor table. River sighed. She hadn’t wanted tonight to be like this. She composed herself and lightened her tone, deciding to move on from the topic for now. “Well, I suppose we both got something out of it in the end. You, a companion, and me, a diamond.” She looked down at her food and finally took a small bite.

            _Not bad,_ she thought.

            After a few more moments of silence, River dared to look up at the Doctor. He poked his fork around in his plate of pasta, eyes intent on the progress. From this angle, she couldn’t discern the expression on his face.

            “What did you do with the diamond, by the way?” River asked, hoping to break the serious mood that had come over him.

            The Doctor glanced up in surprise, and a flicker of relief shone in his eyes. “It’s in good hands,” he assured her, cautiously lifting a forkful of pasta to his mouth.

            River raised an eyebrow at him. “I _was_ still planning on getting paid for that.”

            He took a moment to swallow his food before answering. “I put it to good use. A good investment.” One corner of his mouth twitched the slightest bit, almost forming into a smirk. He turned his head to look out at the singing towers, and then focused his gaze back on her.

            River’s gasp turned into a short, startled laugh. She looked out at the towers and the red sunset, back at the restaurant, covered in dazzling lights, and finally at the Doctor, his expression alight with amusement.

            “You did all of this?”

            His smile widened. “Consider it Christmas present number two.”

River recovered enough to shake her head. “With my money. Typical.”

            The Doctor frowned at her retort, raising his eyebrows. “I don’t think many husbands would create a restaurant just so that they could take their wife on a date, do you?”

            “No,” she murmured, finding her gaze drawn to the towers again. The music was stronger than ever; a beautiful, intricate melody that was already becoming so familiar to River. “In fact, I can only think of one man who would.”

__________________________

           

            They spoke of happier things then: remembering old adventures, relating impossible tales, commenting on the quality of the food. Eventually they grew silent, their heads turned toward the singing towers. The crimson sun cast the monoliths in a radiant light, somehow heightening the effect of the enchanting music.

            “Do you remember Queen Victoria’s ball?” River’s voice remained reverently quiet.

            It took the Doctor a moment to recall the memory. At the name _Queen Victoria_ so many instances flashed through his mind, but he finally pinpointed the occasion River spoke of.

            “The Queen was almost turned into a Cyberman,” he stated, remembering the panic and terror. It had been his fault, but it had all worked out in the end.

            “Your fault,” River said as if she could hear his thoughts. “I insisted we should find the Cybermat, you said it was fine.”

            “I was…” The Doctor stared down at his hands as more detailed memories flowed into his mind’s eye. “…occupied.”

 

_“It’s just one Cybermat, dear,” the Doctor insisted. “It can’t do any harm on its own.”_

_River looked back at him with a resigned sigh. “As long as you’re sure.”_

_“I’m always sure.” He smiled at her as they danced; well, maybe_ attempted _to dance was the right phrase. He wasn’t really sure what this dance was or how it went, so he just made up footwork along the way and River followed him. And yet, she still looked at him like he was perfect._

_This was a much younger River, he had realized when he had run into her (quite literally). When he had first slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close as the music began, he had heart her heart racing, seen the faint blush in her cheeks, felt her hand tremble against his. He wouldn’t be surprised if this was the first time she had danced with him._

_And that was why, just this once, he had to ignore the danger, if only for a moment longer._

_Of course a Cybermat was dangerous, but he didn’t want to rush into saving the day. Right now, all he wanted to do was dance with River Song and live up to the man she thought he was._

 

            “Trying to remember how to dance? And failing?”

            River’s teasing voice pulled the Doctor from the memory and he looked over at her bright smile. Right now she looked much like she had that night: her hair done up, a dark dress hugging her frame, her eyes filled with a complex combination of emotions that the Doctor couldn’t quite understand. Her beauty had stunned him as much back then as it did now, though in his last body he had stuttered and stammered, blushing and feeling just a little bit scared as he held her so close. Now he just couldn’t stop staring at her, like she was the most beautiful work of art he had ever seen. But she was more than that; she was River, _his_ River.

            “Something like that,” the Doctor muttered, trying to recover from his thoughts. He didn’t often get carried away with his emotions, but River’s presence had always seemed to overwhelm him and muddle his thought processes. Apparently, it was no different in this body.

            “You were a terrible dancer.”

            The Doctor remembered again her awed expression as she gazed at him. He was almost positive now that it had been one of her first dates with him. “You didn’t mind,” he quipped back, finding his lips twitching into a teasing smile.

            “I _did,_ but…” River smiled, her eyes looking past him. “It was the first time you ever danced with me.”

            He was right, then. “I know. You were shaking.”

            She trained her gaze back on him. “So were you.”

            The Doctor tried to hide his smile, turning back to the towers. River was one step ahead of him, as always, and she was also right.

            “I’m better at dancing now,” he told her, though as he said it he wasn’t quite sure how he knew. Something itched in the back of his mind, a memory of a dilapidated ballroom and minor waltz playing on an old, forgotten piano.

            He stopped the scene in its tracks, knowing that it would never be complete. He would never remember the face of the girl that had danced with him.

            “Now _that,_ my love, is something I have to see.”

            The Doctor watched as River stood, walked around the table, and extended her hand towards him. The Doctor stared at her hand, glanced at the towers, and then looked into River’s eyes.

            “I don’t think there’s a dance that goes with it,” he said with a nod at the towers.

            Her hand remained, palm up, waiting. “Then we’ll make up our own. It’s not like we’ve ever gone by the rules anyway.”

            Of course she was right. She always was.

            The Doctor got to his feet and grasped River’s right hand in his left, leading her away from the table and towards the edge of the balcony. He turned to face her, and River copied his movement. The Doctor slid his arm around her waist and held her gingerly at a safe distance. River smirked at him and took another step forward so that they were almost toe-to-toe.

            The Doctor raised his eyebrows at her. “Not much room for error.” He nudged his foot against hers to prove his words.

River, grinning now, placed her hand on the back of his neck. “That’s _exactly_ how I like it. “

            The Doctor realised, not for the first time, that River had the remarkable talent of being able to make anything she said sound like an innuendo. He told himself _that_ was why he felt prickles of heat in his cheeks and _that_ was why he felt his stomach flip. But while he knew River’s love of making him feel uncomfortable was part of it, he couldn’t deny that he was just a little bit afraid like he had been that night at Queen Victoria’s ball. Once again he found River Song looking at him with a sort of wonder and amazement, like he was the burning sun in the sky.

            He wondered if he would ever shatter her vision of him. Could he truly live up to everything she expected him to be?

            Maybe not. But he could try.

            The Doctor took a step back. River mirrored him. And while the song of the singing towers wasn’t steady or regular, somehow they still danced in time across the balcony.

            _The story of our lives,_ the Doctor thought to himself. Nothing about their relationship had ever been remotely normal, and yet here they were, married, dancing, loving each other after all this time. They had made it work; it was their dance.

River smiled up at him, seeming to be glowing in the magnificent light of the blazing sun behind her. The Doctor felt her pinky finger caress his ring finger and slide over the wedding band he wore there, as if asking the silent question: _Is this what I think it is?_ He glanced over at their intertwined fingers and then focused back on her face. He felt his lips curve into a small smile.

            “Yes. You know, I _am_ a married man.”

            River matched his grin and used her hand on his neck as an anchor to pull herself fully against him in a sort of embrace, leaning her head on his shoulder. Their feet halted, though they swayed back and forth in an imaginary rhythm. River’s fingers toyed with the Doctor’s curls as he bent down to place a kiss on the crown of her head.

            And in that moment, the Doctor wasn’t afraid anymore.

           

           

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reference to the Doctor's half-memory about dancing is from The Scientific Secrets of Doctor Who. In one of the short stories, Twelve and Clara end up in Blackpool in the future and everything is in ruins. They walk through a ballroom at one point, and Clara says that she always wanted to dance there when she was a little girl. The Doctor blows it off and keeps going, but they have to walk back through the ballroom later and Clara is a little upset about the future of her hometown. So the Doctor agrees to dance with her and uses the sonic screwdriver to make the piano play, though it plays a piece in a minor key because it's old and worn down. The whole thing is super cute and really sweet so I just had to make a reference to that. :)


	3. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Conducting class started kicking my butt. Thank you so much for the comments and kudos on the last chapter; I really appreciate it! Eventually I'll get around to responding to all the comments... 
> 
> Anyway, I have two more chapters of this fic partially written, so it's not ending any time soon! It just might be a bit longer in between updates. 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

            The lights in the TARDIS brightened as the Doctor and River stepped inside, hand in hand. A cheerful whir emanated from the console.

            River chuckled and pressed the Doctor’s hand. “I think she’s happy to see me.”

            “She’s happy that you’re staying.” He looked over at River, the sight of her bright smile causing a similar grin to tug at his lips. He still couldn’t quite believe that this was happening. River was here, and she was staying with him for twenty-four years. Even to his time sensitive mind, the thought was dizzying. “You never stay for long,” he continued, softer. He turned to face her and squeezed her hand, staring right into her bright eyes. “She misses you.”

            River shook her head, exhaling in a huff mixed with an ironic chuckle. “I’m still waiting to wake up and realise that I’ve been dreaming.” She reached her free hand around his neck, her fingertips toying with the ends of his curls, looking at him in wonder.

            Despite the feeling of pleasure at her delicate touch, a wave of guilt overwhelmed the Doctor’s senses. All this time, after all they had done, River had no idea how much he loved her. And while he thought she had a pretty good idea of the depth of his devotion now, she still felt like this was too good to be true; a fanciful dream.

            How many times had she dreamed of moments like this because he had always left her alone to rush to the next adventure? How many times had he abandoned chances to tell her and show her just how much she meant to him?

            He met her gaze and sighed. “I don’t think I could ever make up for all the mistakes I’ve made in being your husband. But maybe, in twenty-four years, I can at least make a start.” A frown came unbidden to his lips as he worried if he had said the right thing. Conveying emotions, especially _these_ kinds of emotions, was not one of his strong points.

            River smiled and leaned forward to peck a kiss on his lips. It came on so fast that the Doctor didn’t even have time to process what had happened, let alone respond to it. River pulled away with a smirk, her eyes on his lips, as if she were contemplating repeating the gesture.

            The Doctor tugged on his collar as warmth began to creep up his neck. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Still not…used to it in this body.”

            “Well.” River’s smirk grew into a mischievous grin as she drew closer once more, the tip of her nose brushing his. “We’ll just have to fix that.” she whispered, her breath washing over his lips.

            The sudden proximity made the Doctor’s gut clench. Part of him was ready to turn and run from the outright _flirting,_ while the other part wanted to just give in and close the small gap between them to kiss her.

            However, River moved first, withdrawing from him with a chuckle as amusement gleamed in her eyes. No doubt she could just about read his internal struggle. “You’re still you,” she stated. Her gaze softened and she stepped forward to wrap her arms around his waist, her head coming to rest on his shoulder.

            Caught off guard by the sudden change in mood, the Doctor hesitated for a moment before returning the embrace and pulling her close. “What do you mean?”

            A teasing note crept into her voice. “Equal parts fear, awkwardness, and desire,” she stated simply. “It’s always that way with you.”

            The Doctor felt his cheeks grow a little warm and began to retort, but River cut him off.

            “Listen to those hearts speed up.”

            He could almost _feel_ her grin, though her face was still hidden in his shoulder. “River!” he reprimanded. He could have gone on then about the differences between the words _desire_ and _love_ and how she had absolutely used the wrong one, but he dismissed the thought and just smiled instead. Though he hated it sometimes, he had missed her teasing. He had missed _her._

            River laughed lightly, turning her face into his neck and hugging him tighter. Her chuckles faded into a sigh and she shifted her head again, her curls tickling his chin. The Doctor rested his head against hers and echoed her sigh, pressing her closer to him. Moments like this had always been so rare; the quiet moments when they weren’t rushed, when they could spend as long as they wanted in each other’s arms. But now they had twenty-four years. Twenty-four years of _this._

As the Doctor’s train of thought passed, his gaze wandered to the TARDIS console. An out of place blob of red caught his eye, and suddenly he remembered. It had appeared there after he had gotten dressed for dinner; the TARDIS must have created it, just as she had made the last one.

            “River,” he murmured, gently extracting himself from her hold.

            She looked up at him with a weary smile. The Doctor had almost forgotten that River needed sleep. Not as much as an average human, of course, but still much more than a time lord.

            He filed the thought away for later and smiled back at her. “I have one more thing to give you tonight.”

            She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Another present?”

            He shrugged. “To make up for all the other Christmases.” He turned toward the console, but then had a thought and spun back around. “You have to close your eyes.”

            River obeyed him, a light smile still on her lips. The Doctor jumped to the console and grabbed the diary in his hands. He gazed at it for a moment, running his fingers over the smooth red cover that matched the colour of one of his coats. For a moment he let his mind wander back to when he had first picked up River’s TARDIS blue diary from the console, so long ago. He had recognised it immediately from the library, a painful reminder of where their relationship was doomed to end.

            But _this_ diary held no such connotation. This new diary, he had guessed, was for the coming years they would spend together, a way to record the best memories throughout all twenty-four years.

            The Doctor smiled at the book and walked back over to River, holding the present out in his hands. “You can look now.”

            Her eyes met his briefly before they traveled down to the gift. She gasped and took the diary into her own hands, running her thumb over the square-shaped grooves embossed in the cover. She pressed the book against her chest and looked up at him, her eyebrows raised and her eyes wide with wonder and surprise.

            “I think you’ll find there are just enough pages for twenty-four years,” he said in response to her unspoken question.

            She leaped forward to hug him again, and this time he was ready to catch her in his arms. “Thank you.”

            He squeezed her around the waist and then pulled away, noting her tired expression once again. “I’m sure the TARDIS has kept your room tidy,” he said, pulling away. “You should get some rest.”

            River grabbed his hand. “Will you come with me?” she asked, her eyes exuding innocence.

            The question seemed harmless enough, but the possible implications made the Doctor’s ears grow warm. Though the thought of a nap was tempting, he was not getting anywhere near that situation. “I have some repairs to do,” he replied quickly, slipping his hand out of hers lest his palms should start sweating. He swallowed and then added some more explanation to fill the silence. “The TARDIS is worn out from the whole ordeal with not being able to take off, and then Hydroflax rampaging around inside her…”

             River looked straight into his eyes, and he knew she could read him like a book. She frowned, her expression falling from the smile that had been there all night.

             Guilt came like a stab to the Doctor’s gut. He was always doomed to ruin their happiness; would it ever stop?

             “Do I at least get a goodnight kiss?” River asked, interrupting his thoughts. The shadow of a smile ghosted across her lips.

             The Doctor cupped her chin in his hands and bent forward to place a kiss on her forehead. He closed his eyes for a moment and brushed his thumb over her cheek. Though he might be complete rubbish at this whole husband thing, he hoped she still knew that she meant the universe to him.

             River’s expression was lighter when he pulled away. “Goodnight, Doctor.” She turned and walked toward the TARDIS corridor, casting one look back at him over her shoulder.

             “Goodnight, River Song,” the Doctor murmured to himself as River disappeared down the corridor.

             The TARDIS seemed much too quiet. Even the engines had grown silent, and the console emitted no signs of life. The Doctor spun in a slow circle, looking over the motionless console room.

 _She’ll leave you,_ his mind whispered. _She’ll see that you can’t ever make her happy and she’ll leave you all alone in your empty TARDIS…_

             The thoughts made his hearts quicken. He tried to inhale a large breath, but it seemed to get stuck somewhere in his throat. He reached up to his collar and tugged on it, letting air pass through to his skin. With a sigh, he found he could breathe normally again.

            The Doctor braced his arms on the console and then rubbed a hand over his face. This had been happening more often of late, ever since…since _her_. Vastra had told him it was a symptom of intense grief or fear. A panic attack. He had scoffed at her. He could never admit the truth to anyone.

           He was afraid of being alone.

           He clenched the edge of the console until his knuckles turned white, focusing only on the sight of his hands and the pain in his fingers. All other thoughts scattered from his brain.

           Finally, he relaxed his muscles with a sigh. There were plenty of things to do that could occupy his mind. He pictured his guitar in his hands, his fingers wandering over the frets as he played…

           The song forced itself into his mind, pushing away the calming thoughts. The only song. _Her_ song. It took over every thought, weaving itself into his bloodstream, overwhelming every sense, drowning him in sadness, hopelessness…

           The Doctor shook his head and pulled himself from the trance. He still couldn’t play guitar, then. He wondered if he would ever be able to again; the song seemed to be a part of him now, a painful reminder of what he had lost.

            Before the earworm could return, he turned his mind on something else. He reached inside his coat and grabbed his sonic screwdriver, turning it over in his hands.

            Just over two hours later, the Doctor had taken the screwdriver entirely apart and put it back together perfectly (apart from one extra piece he wasn’t sure about), calculated thirteen almost certainly impossible attachments he could create to finally make the instrument compatible with wood, and eaten an entire bag of jelly babies.

            The Doctor stared at the sloppy mechanical sketches scattered around him and rubbed a hand over his eyes. When was the last time he had lied down? He couldn’t even remember. It really was time for a rest…

            He let his screwdriver drop from his hand and clatter onto the grating. What was he doing? River was just down the hallway. He had promised to spend twenty-four years by her side. He needed her, and by the way she had looked at him, she surely needed him too. And yet here they were, both alone, because he had felt uncomfortable and hadn’t said a word about it. He clenched his hands into fists. He was such an _idiot._

            Stuffing the screwdriver back in his pocket, the Doctor jumped to his feet and marched through the TARDIS corridor to River’s room. As he approached, the door slid open and the Doctor slowed his pace. He padded into the carpeted room, the layout faintly illuminated by a dim light in the ceiling.

            River lied on her side in the bed, taking up half of the space on the mattress. Her hair, now undone and spilling over her pillow, covered her face from the Doctor’s angle. On the empty side of the bed sat an open diary. The new journal was open to the first page, and the Doctor could see the curves and swirls of River’s penmanship covering the paper.

            The Doctor walked over to the vacant side of the bed and stared down at the entry. He read the first two words: _The Doctor._ He could have so easily skimmed through the page in a matter of seconds, but instead he reached down and closed the diary, setting it on the ground next to the bed. He would ask for River’s permission first.

            He looked down at River’s face, framed by wild curls. With eyes closed, lips formed in the slightest of smiles, and her expression so innocent, he was reminded of who she really was. _Melody Pond._ The daughter of his two best friends. And when he had failed to save her, she had become a weapon created to destroy him. But instead of killing him, she had fallen in love with him. She had married him.

            The Doctor shook his head. Their story had always been so strange and twisted from the very beginning. He never imagined that it could ever be any different, that they could live a normal life. But now here they were: married, with no monsters to fight and twenty-four years to pass by.

            The thought brought a smile to his face as he knelt down beside the bed. Silently, he unlaced his shoes and removed them. Next he unbuttoned his coat and tossed it on the ground, then loosened his tie and dropped it on top of the coat. He stood up and lowered himself onto the edge of the bed. Taking care to create as little disturbance as possible, he slid underneath the blanket, leaving several inches of space between himself and River.

            However, almost as soon as he had settled his head on the pillow, River scooted closer to him and curled into his side. The Doctor lied stiff. River sighed contentedly and pressed her lips to his cheek. “Goodnight, Sweetie,” she whispered.

            The kiss seemed to free his body of all tension. “Goodnight, River.” His eyelids weighed down, and he found his blinks becoming longer and longer. Definitely time for a nap…

 

            _The Doctor watched a figure with a head of brown hair disappear as it turned a corner. Somehow, he knew it was Clara, and this time he would see her face. He would know._

_He ran to catch up with her, his hearts drumming a quick pulse in his ears. Sweat began to trickle down from his forehead. His mouth dried out. Though he had only been running for a few seconds, it felt like he had been doing it for years._

_The path they ran down seemed to never end. She always stayed just inches from his outstretched hand, never even turning her head to acknowledge his presence._

_Finally, the Doctor couldn’t run anymore. He collapsed onto the pavement, pounding his fists on the ground as he landed on his knees. Blood trickled down the sides of his hands where his skin made contact with the rough pavement._

_He had failed once again. He would never remember. No matter how hard he tried, she was always just out of reach. He would always be alone._

_“Doctor!”_

_Was that her voice?_

_“Doctor.”_

_Was that her hand on his cheek? If he could only look up, he could see her face, but his body just wouldn’t obey his command._

_“Wake up.”_

* * *

 

            River hovered over the Doctor, one elbow on either side of him, her right hand on his cheek. With his eyebrows furrowed, lips pressed tightly together, and fists clenched at his sides, every muscle in his body seemed to be tense in agony.

            “Wake up,” she urged him, stroking her thumb along his cheek.

            Finally the Doctor opened his eyes and blinked once, his pupils dilating as they immediately adjusted to the darkness. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he focused on her, as if he had been expecting to see someone else. One by one his features relaxed and River felt the sheets shift as the Doctor released them from his grasp.

            “River?” he mumbled, his voice breaking on the second syllable. Though she was sure he was awake now, his gaze seemed distant, like he was still living in the dream, and his breathing remained quick and erratic.

            “I’m here, my love.” While his expression had relaxed, he looked defeated rather than at ease. “You were having a nightmare.”

            The Doctor shook his head and lifted himself onto his elbows. River sat back, giving him space. “Not a nightmare,” the Doctor muttered as he rubbed a hand over his face, “I’ve been having that dream for months.” He ran a hand through his hair and took deep breaths, using his other hand to reach up to his collar and undo the top two buttons of his shirt. He sighed and hung his head, his breathing returning to normal.

            River watched him silently, feeling his sadness and frustration as if it were her own. This was a practiced routine between the two of them; never once had she ever seen the Doctor get through a nap without nightmares, and she knew he always needed space before comfort. While she had hoped that these twenty-four years could be happier than the snippets of time they had spent together in the past when he had always been hurting over something, she supposed it was just too much to ask. He was the Doctor, and he was always in pain. But only in the land of his dreams did he ever face it.

“Doctor?” she asked quietly after a few moments.

            He leaned back against the headboard and closed his eyes, his eyebrows furrowing together.

            River reached out and settled her hand on his arm. “You never answered my question.”

            The Doctor’s eyelids opened slowly and his gaze focused on her, worn and weary. “What question?”

            She remembered how he had looked on that balcony: the light reflecting off of the tears in his eyes, his lips pressed together to hold it all in. While she knew that he had been grieving over their last “night,” she had also noticed something else, something hiding much deeper. “Why are you sad?”

            She could almost physically see the wall come up behind his eyes. His expression became unreadable. “You know why.”

            “It’s not just me. There’s something else, isn’t there?”

            He looked down, staring at his hands.

            River added gentle pressure to his arm. “I know you traveled with someone else after Amy and Rory.”

            He flinched. He looked up at her and a thousand different emotions seemed to flicker across his face: guilt, fear, sadness, and everything in between. This was a long, sad story, something he wasn’t proud of. Something that had been torturing him for a long time.

“I’m not going to make you tell me, Doctor, but I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”

            His eyes widened. River shifted her hand to his cheek again, and this time he leaned into her touch. His expression slackened. “I was going to wait to tell you; wait until we had spent some time here together. Wait until it became more bearable.” He sighed, glancing down before meeting her gaze again. “But I don’t think it will.”

            She could read the fear in his eyes as clear as if he had confessed it. “I’m not going to leave you.” He leaned away from her an inch and his eyebrows rose in surprise. She had hit it right on the mark, then. He had always secretly been afraid of being alone. Well, _he_ thought it was a secret.

            “I love you,” she continued, “and nothing will ever change that.”

            He attempted a small smile and then leaned away from her to rest the back of his head against the headboard. He crossed his legs and clasped his hands together in his lap.

            River copied his position and sat next to him, leaning her shoulder against the headboard.

            The Doctor looked down at his hands, wiggling his fingers. “Her name was Clara,” he began. “I think she was my best friend.”

            “Think?” River asked quietly, catching that crucial word.

            He shook his head. “I don’t remember.”

            The pain in those words was enough to make River reach out and grab his clasped hands. To her surprise, he took her hand in one of his and squeezed it.

            “It was my fault,” he continued, staring at their interlaced fingers. “If I wouldn’t have let her get so reckless, if I wouldn’t have gone so far to save her…”

            “You’re talking about her as if you remembered her.”

            The Doctor huffed. “I remember that she was with me. I remember things that we did. But it’s not…it’s not like I was there. It’s like reading a book. I don’t remember the emotions, the feelings that I had. I don’t remember her face. I don’t remember her voice, or her laugh.”

            River pressed his hand, waiting. Hesitant at first, he began to tell the tale of a girl who had saved his life countless times, a girl who had pulled him out of his darkest times. He told her about the trap street and Clara’s thoughtless choice, about how the time lords had sent him into his confession dial.

            “How long did they keep you there?” River asked when he explained how he escaped the prison.

            He glanced at her and then returned his gaze to his lap. He pressed his lips together.

            “Doctor?” she prodded, beginning to fear the answer.

            “Four and a half billion years,” he stated, his voice so soft she could barely hear him.

            River gasped. She pulled her hand from the Doctor’s and balled it into a fist. If any other time lord had been in the room, she was sure she could have ripped their throat out.

            “How could they do that to _you?”_ she exclaimed. “You _saved_ them. Your own people, and they—”

            “River,” he said calmly. He looked at her, raising his eyebrows as he reclaimed her hand. “I know. But I had to stay there.”

            She shook her head, exhaling in a huff. “What do you mean? They trapped you.”

            “They wanted information. About the Hybrid. If I would have given it to them, they would have let me go. But I had to get to Gallifrey.” He sighed, hanging his head. “I had to try and save her.”

            “What did you do?” River whispered, her anger morphing into sorrow. She couldn’t imagine the Doctor being in that place for so long, and yet, the Doctor always loved so much, with everything he had, that she had no doubt that he had done all of this to save his companion.

            He continued in his story and told her that he had been on Gallifrey, had spoken to Rassilon, and had become Lord President by hardly even saying a word. He made it clear that everything he had done had been for one purpose: to bring back Clara.

            “They extracted her just before her death,” he explained. “I tricked them and told them that I needed her for information about the Hybrid. And then we ran.” His jaw tensed and he squeezed her hand hard. “I killed the General so that we could escape.”

            “He was a time lord,” River offered, though she knew it would do little to console him. “He regenerated.”

            “It doesn’t make it any less of a murder.” After a moment he sighed and went on. He explained how he and Clara had escaped in a TARDIS. How her heart still hadn’t started beating. How he had formed a plan to wipe her memory, only to have it backfire when she bested him.

            “And so I went looking for her,” he continued. “I don’t know how long it’s been, but I’ve been searching. I keep finding myself in places I know we’ve been. I keep almost remembering. But everything is just out of reach.”

            River remained silent, thinking through all that had happened. She wished she could blame someone, a god or something, for punishing him once again where it hurt the most. But it wasn’t the work of a malicious deity she could march up to in order to give it a piece of her mind; it was simply the unfairness of the universe at work.

When she did speak, all she could manage was a soft whisper. “I’m so sorry, Doctor.”

            He met her gaze, his eyes filled with pain and loss. “She took my memories away so I could let her go.” He shook his head. “But I can’t.” He pressed her hand between both of his, letting out another sigh. River placed a light kiss on his cheek and rested her forehead against his temple.

            “You don’t deserve this,” she murmured. “My love, what can I do?”

            His body began to shift and River drew away, but before she could move very far he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into his lap. The embrace squeezed the air from her lungs in a single huff of air before his arms loosened. River sat stunned for a moment before she was able to wrap her arms around his neck.

            “I’m sorry,” the Doctor mumbled after a moment.

            _“Sorry?”_ How typical of him to relate such a painful story and then apologize.

            “For last night.”

            It took River a minute to remember what he was talking about, as her head was still full of the Doctor’s story. She had almost forgotten how he had left her alone last night. She lifted her head from his shoulder to meet his eyes, though she hadn’t realized quite how close he was. To find his bright blue eyes only inches in front of her stunned her into silence for a moment, and all she could do was stare. There were so many times she had thought to herself that a person could get lost in those eyes, in their depth and timelessness.

            River cleared her throat and recovered her thoughts. “This is going to take some getting used to for both of us.” She nestled herself in his arms and ducked her head under his chin. “I’m not cross about it.”

            “But I am. I promised you that I’d stay and then I left you alone.”

            “You were scared.” She reached up to stroke his cheek and he looked down at her. She couldn’t help but smile. “You’ve always been afraid of me.”

            He chuckled half-heartedly, confirming her suspicions. “That’s how you’ve wanted it.”

            “But not like this.” She sat up, reaching above her to frame the Doctor’s face with her hands and guide his head down so she could meet his eyes. “All I want is to be with you, like this, without anything in between us. You carry the weight of the universe on your shoulders, but it doesn’t have to be a wall that you put up.” She looked into his eyes and hoped that he could read the emotions behind her words, the feelings that were too strong to express in words. “You don’t have to carry it alone.”

            The Doctor didn’t smile, but in his eyes she saw gratitude, hope, and…love. “River,” was all he said, leaning forward to press a tender kiss against her forehead. River closed her eyes. Her heart drummed hyperactively in her chest. How did he manage to be so…so _sexy_ without even trying?

            “It’s not sexy,” the Doctor muttered with a frown as he pulled away. “It was supposed to be…” The frown deepened as he searched for a word. “…not sexy.”

            “Mind reader now, are we?” River chuckled, looping her arms around his neck again and turning into his chest.

            The Doctor’s arms held her close. “Just a very good guesser.”

            River attempted to think of another witty remark, but her body, being relaxed, warm, and comfortable, had already begun sinking into unconsciousness again. She buried her face in the Doctor’s shoulder and let her eyes drift closed. She felt the Doctor’s lips press against the top of her head.

            “Sleep well, River.”

            And she did, for the first time in a very long while.

 


	4. Breakfast (Or Lack Thereof)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I apologise for the wait! I'm so happy to see that so many of you are enjoying this fic! Thank you so much for all the positive reviews and everything. The next few chapters I have planned after this one should be pretty cool, so stay tuned! It's almost time for action and adventures!

            River’s mind slowly surfaced from unconsciousness. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept so comfortably, free of nightmares, able to wake up as lazily as she wanted to.

            The only thing wrong was the sore stiffness in her limbs. She leaned her head forward just the slightest bit and found that her nose bumped against skin. As she continued to take in her condition, she became aware of an arm around her waist.

            _He’s still here._

            River curled into him and smiled, wanting to prolong this as long as she could. She still couldn’t wrap her head around twenty-four years; she was so used to making every second with the Doctor count because she didn’t know how long they had. Even in situations like this, where they had been granted at least a little time, the Doctor never sat for long. He had never stayed all night, just holding her. This was different. A very _good_ different.

“Good morning, my love,” River mumbled into the Doctor’s collar.

            River could hear a smile in his voice as he replied, “I hope that doesn’t mean you’re getting bored. We still have a long ways to go before morning.”

            River grinned. She finally blinked open her eyes and drew a few inches away from him. The Doctor bent his head down, meeting her gaze with raised eyebrows and inquisitive blue eyes.

            “Hungry?” he asked.

            “What?” was all River could manage. _How_ on earth could he get this close, make that face, hold her like this, and be completely oblivious to the feelings he evoked in her? But any thought River had was immediately put to rest at the Doctor’s out of place question. As usual, he had thoroughly killed the mood.

            “You didn’t eat much last night. Come on.” He shifted forward, clearly an invitation for her to get off.

            River crawled out of his lap, only now fully aware that he must have sat like that for hours with nothing else to do while she slept. As if hearing her thoughts, the Doctor jumped up out of bed and wobbled for a moment before regaining his balance and then shaking out his legs. River took a moment to stretch her arms and legs, yawn, and then run her hands through her hair. No doubt it was a wild mess, but she knew the Doctor wouldn’t care. If anything he liked it, though he’d never admit it.

            Finally, River joined the Doctor in the doorway and walked by his side down the TARDIS corridor.

            “So,” the Doctor asked, “what do you want for breakfast?”

            River scoffed as she looked over at him. _“You?_ Cooking breakfast? What’ll it be, fish fingers and custard?”

            The Doctor rolled his eyes. “River, I’ve–”  

            _“Trained with Julia Child,”_ they said at the same time. “I know, Doctor,” River continued, “but all the times you tried…”

            “I’m different now. New body, remember?”

            They turned into an open doorway, and the Doctor paused just inside. River stopped abruptly next to him and watched as his eyes unfocused and his pupils dilated. His gaze was trained on a small round table just inside the door.

            “Doctor?”

            He squeezed his eyes shut in time with a sharp inhale. “Memories,” he muttered. “Maybe. I think.”

            River reached for his hand and felt an almost imperceptible tremor in his fingers. _Oh, Doctor,_ she thought, wishing that she could take some of his burden. _How long have you been alone?_

She pressed his hand and spoke in a soft voice, “Tell me what you remember.”

            He didn’t answer. His lips pressed into a hard line and his eyebrows twitched, like he was trying to fight off an earworm.

            “Doctor,” River insisted. “Please.”

            The Doctor’s expression relaxed a little. “The last time I was in this room was with her.” His eyes opened and fixed back onto the table. “We were here, talking, drinking tea.” He rested his free hand on the nearest chair. “This was my chair.” He nodded across the table. “That was hers.” He shrugged. “That’s it.” He heaved a great sigh and shook his head.

            River’s heart sank at the sight of him so drained, so defeated, just like he had been last night. She knew it would be pointless asking him if he could let it go. He was the Doctor, the king of never saying goodbye.

            She had never believed in Fate, but River knew that it was no coincidence the Doctor had run into her when he had. Without someone around at a time like this, what would the Doctor become?

            “I’m sorry.” River paused, wishing she could do something to help rather than just sit on the sidelines and watch. “If there’s anything I can do…”

            The Doctor squeezed her hand and looked over at her, the corners of his lips lifting in the slightest of smiles. “You’re already doing it.” He slid his hand from hers and strode past her into the kitchen. “So. Breakfast.” He opened the refrigerator and glanced inside. “Eggs? Eggs are breakfast.”

            River chuckled, feeling lighter now that the Doctor’s cloud of gloom had passed. “Eggs would be lovely.”

The Doctor grabbed the carton from the refrigerator, spun around, and then frowned, staring at the stove like his look would make it burst into flames.

            “New body, same Doctor,” River said as she grabbed the egg carton from his hands. She reached into a cupboard below the counter and grabbed a pan, setting it on the stove. Remembering that the TARDIS provided the best non-stick pans in the universe, she immediately cracked the eggs into the pan and turned on the heat.

            “I didn’t think you’d have time to learn this sort of thing,” the Doctor commented behind her.

            In the middle of reaching for a spatula in a nearby drawer, River paused, closed her eyes, and suddenly was back on Earth in a little house with a blue door.

“Dad,” she said quietly. She smiled a little at the memory. “I went to visit one morning, but Amy was gone; out with a friend or something. Rory made me eggs and we…we just talked.”

 

            _“So basically what you’re telling me is that you stole the Doctor’s TARDIS because you were cross with him? Can you really just do that?” Rory’s tone was light, though the creases in his forehead betrayed his concern._

 _River grinned at him over the rim of her coffee mug. “Oh,_ I _can. She likes me better, though he’d never admit it.”_

_A beat of silence passed. Rory took a bite of his eggs. “Staying out of trouble, then?”_

_“Father dear, when do I ever stay out of trouble?”_

_“You know Amy and I, we…worry about you.” His eyes softened and he quickly glanced down at the table, as if embarrassed by the statement._

_River sat stunned for a moment at the brutal truth. She set down her mug and thought for a moment, unsure of how to respond. “I can take care of myself.”_

_“I know, but you’re our daughter. It’s our job.” He laughed, though it had a bitter edge. “We don’t get to experience any other part of being parents.”_

_If there was one person in the entire universe River couldn’t stand upsetting, it was her dad._

_“Would it help if I…came around more? I’m not sure if it will be often, or in the right order, but I can try.”_

_Rory smiled a little, finally meeting her eyes again. “Yeah. Just leave the Doctor out of it,” he added, “or he might repaint our fence again.”_

_And when they laughed together, River felt something that she thought she ought to have felt so much more in her life: the joy of spending time with her dad._

            When River blinked, it took a moment for her to realise why something wet was on her cheek.

            She inwardly cursed herself. She hadn’t wanted to be sad about this; not when the Doctor had gone to such great lengths to give them so much time, so much happiness.

            “River?” the Doctor asked quietly, still behind her.

            She hastily sniffed and wiped her arm over her eyes. “I’m fine,” she said, grabbing the spatula and poking at the eggs. But really she was remembering the look on her mother’s face when she had turned to the Doctor to say goodbye in New York. Terror, sadness, regret. That look would forever haunt River’s thoughts.

            The Doctor’s socks padding on the kitchen tile pulled her from the dark recesses of her mind. She looked up to find that was now standing next to her, his brow creased in worry.

            “You had to be strong for me,” the Doctor said, his voice hushed. “That’s why you couldn’t come with me that day.” He reached out a hand toward her hesitantly, as if he were approaching a wild animal. “It’s okay, River. They were your parents.”

            For some reason, the phrase squeezed more tears from her eyes.

            “This time, let me be strong for you.”

            River looked over at him, and, completely foregoing his outstretched hand, slammed into his chest and buried her face there, finally letting out all of the tears she had been bottling up and all the memories she had been trying to forget.

            The Doctor’s arms settled around her and pulled her close. It had been a long time since River had cried. Many times, she had claimed that she had cried so much in her life that all of her tears were dried up now.

            But of course that wasn’t true. She could cry rivers more.

            Yet, River still hated anyone seeing her cry, so it didn’t take long for her to pull herself together. She stepped back from the Doctor and offered him a weak smile as his arms swung to his sides.

            “Thank you.”

            The Doctor’s eyebrows furrowed together, as if he was confused by the two words. He reached out a hand and brushed away River’s remaining tears with his thumb, the caresses so gentle that River barely felt them. She stared at him and tried to discern the look in his eyes. After a moment he looked almost scared as he leaned forward.

            River couldn’t help but smile, though she managed to hold back a chuckle, and think, _Bless him. He’s trying to be sweet._

            She helped him along by raising herself on her toes and meeting him halfway, finding his lips stiff and hesitant. His hand on her cheek went slack, as if it took every ounce of concentration he had to execute the kiss.

            Now River couldn’t help but laugh, breaking off the kiss to let it out. The Doctor looked more confused than ever.

            “Right moment?” he wondered, uttering the source of probably all of his confusion for the last minute.

            This was one of the things River loved the most about being married to the Doctor: meeting a new version of him and falling in love all over again. While each regeneration was definitely the Doctor, they all had their unique personalities, all of which she loved. And with every moment she spent with this new Doctor, she was discovering and loving him even more.

            As a response to the Doctor’s question and as a result of her thoughts, River bounced up on her toes to kiss the Doctor again, plunging her fingers into his mass of grey curls. For once the Doctor didn’t go stiff, but leaned into the kiss. His arms snaked around her and hugged her tight against him, making it harder to breathe but easier to lose track of how long they were standing there.

            River smiled against his lips as she couldn’t help but think of how unemotional and detached he had seemed only a day earlier. She caught a breath, and, seeming to understand, the Doctor relented and touched his forehead to hers.

            With a grin, River asked, “Such a dull activity, don’t you think, Doctor?”

            The Doctor smirked and opened his mouth to reply, but that was just when River smelled something burning.

            The Doctor’s eyes widened and River was sure that the same expression of panic had appeared on her face as well. In tandem they rushed the few steps to the stove, only to find the eggs charred and black, emitting a terrible smell.

For a moment all River could do was stand there and stare. And then, in unison with the Doctor, she began laughing.

            “We’re time travellers,” the Doctor breathed in between fits of laughter, “two of the smartest people in the universe, and we can’t even make eggs.”

            River could have argued that she knew very well how to make eggs, thank you very much, and that he had thoroughly distracted her, but she was too busy laughing with him.

            The Doctor smiled over at her as he recovered. Silently he took her hand and began to lead her out of the kitchen. River looked back over her shoulder at the eggs they had left on the stove, but she figured the TARDIS would take care of it.

            “Where are we going?” River asked as they walked back down the corridor.

            “Breakfast.” The Doctor continued to smile as they entered the console room. He ran to the controls and started preparing the TARDIS for flight.

            River frowned at him from across the console. “We’re not… _going_ somewhere?”

            The Doctor grinned even wider. “Twenty-four years, but I never said we couldn’t pop off somewhere now and then.”

            River couldn’t help but smile. Twenty-four years was already too much to fathom, and now he was adding extra time? “That’s cheating.”

            “That’s being a time traveler.” He pulled the last lever and the TARDIS launched into flight, rocking the room. River pressed a button on the console, and the time and space machine became still and quiet.

            The Doctor frowned as the TARDIS landed. “Well that’s just no fun.”

            “Where are we?” she asked instead, ignoring the age-old argument for now. In twenty-four years, they would surely get around to it. Several times, at least.

            “Paris, 1901.”

            River looked down at her pyjamas. “I’ll have to change.” She glanced over at the Doctor’s wrinkled dress shirt and frazzled hair. “And so will you.”

            The Doctor looked down at himself, as if just noticing his disheveled appearance. “Oh.”

            “It had better be something good,” River added as she turned around and walked back towards the hallway. “We’re still on a date.”

            There was a beat of silence that River fully expected. She kept walking, waiting for the gears in the Doctor’s mind to turn. After a few seconds, she heard his footsteps on the grating following her.

            “I don’t think that’s exactly what I meant by twenty-four years.”

            “Oh, Doctor.” River turned and grinned at him. “I don’t think you really have a choice.”


	5. Paris Sketches: The Sunrise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following four chapters are each based on one of the four movements from the piece Paris Sketches by Martin Ellerby. I played the piece last year in symphony band, and suddenly while I was writing the end of the last chapter when the Doctor mentioned Paris, the third movement of Paris Sketches popped into my head and I thought it would be perfect to create a Paris adventure with the Doctor and River based off of the piece! 
> 
> I would highly suggest listening to the piece, or at least listening to the first movement while/before/after you read this. (If you listen to the whole piece, you might get a little bit of a clue as to how the story will progress!) Here’s the YouTube link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9VF-LrOYaeg And here’s the link that has the composer’s program notes and comments on each movement: http://www.martinellerby.com/cb---paris-sketches 
> 
> I won’t bore you with all my geeky musician rambling about how I related the story to the music, but it was really fun to do! 
> 
> Note: I do not own Paris Sketches. (Or Doctor Who for that matter. If only…)

_**Movement 1:** _ **_“Saint Germain-des-Prés”_ **

            River opened the TARDIS door slowly. It emitted a long and drawn out creak, making River wince as a dark, serene night greeted her eyes outside the door. A blanket of mist coated the area, pinpricks of light coming from lanterns dotted along a road. A few cars quietly purred down the street, and even fewer people passed along the sidewalks. Otherwise, all was quiet. A bell tolled somewhere in the distance.

            “You got the time wrong,” River said, and though she had meant it to sound accusing, her voice had automatically slipped into a subdued tone that fit the scene.

            “What?”

            River could suddenly feel the Doctor’s presence behind her. She could picture his expression clearly: furrowed brows and a deep frown. “Oh. That’s not right.” His boots clopped on the grating as he rushed back to the console. “Why did she get it wrong?”

            River huffed and rolled her eyes as she turned around. _“She_ never gets anything wrong. _You_ don’t know how to fly her correctly.”

            The Doctor took a break from studying a monitor to shoot a glare at her. “I’ve been doing it for thousands of years,” he muttered. “I can fly her just fine.”

            River sighed. He would never admit it. “And yet, we’re still years after where we should be and several hours before the sun rises.”

            The Doctor opened his mouth to reply, but a loud beep came from his pocket. His eyebrows immediately dipped down and he dropped his chin to his chest as he slipped his hand underneath his jacket.

            “What is it?” River stepped closer as the Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver. The tip glowed blue as it beeped again.

            “It’s picking up something.” The Doctor stared at it and frowned. “Something…not good.”

            “What kind of ‘not good?’” River asked.

            The Doctor ignored her question and instead fiddled with the screwdriver, making it hum and glow blue. He looked up, then back down at the screwdriver. Suddenly he reached back and shut the TARDIS door, not even pausing for a moment as he then strode forward out of the alleyway like he had forgotten her presence altogether.

            River glanced down at her heels, sighed, and jogged to catch up with him. Several steps ahead, the Doctor pressed forward with his head down, staring at his screwdriver, not even looking up as he crossed the road. River rolled her eyes. It would be just his luck to get run over by a car from early 21st century Earth after all the things he had survived. She was more careful and looked both ways down the street before following the Doctor.

            “What is it?” she called after him.

            The Doctor slowed down just enough for River to reach him. “Alien,” he said, without so much as a glance in her direction.

            “I’m still half-convinced you’re just making this up so I can’t blame you for your bad driving.”

            “The TARDIS _did_ bring us here for a reason, and it’s several feet ahead of us.” His nostrils flared in distaste. “There’s something not right here.”

            The Doctor’s pace quickened and River hastened to catch up. The Doctor had always been quick when he fixated on something, but this Doctor had especially long strides that were leaving River breathless as she struggled to keep up. It didn’t help that she had picked out a stunning dress and heels for breakfast, not that the Doctor noticed, anyway. _He_ had merely put on his velvet coat.

            The Doctor glanced down at her feet, as if sensing where her thoughts lay. “Could your shoes be any louder?”

            River rolled her eyes. “We were _supposed_ to be going to breakfast.”

            With a glance at his sonic screwdriver, the Doctor muttered, “It’s moving. We can’t follow it with you running around in those.”

            “I imagine I’ve followed people while wearing heels many more times than you, Doctor. I know how it’s done.”

            A man came strolling out the back door of a building just in front of them. The Doctor’s brow furrowed and his lips pressed into a hard line. That was their target, then.

            River hadn’t just been trying to prove a point when she had told the Doctor she had followed people when wearing heels. She couldn’t even count the number of times she had been at a party and then had been thrown into the role of detective for some murder, theft, or other crime. She knew how to silence the clack of her heels, how to stick to the shadows and stay far behind.

            A quick glance up at the sky told River that dawn was dangerously close. If they didn’t find out what this man was doing before the city woke up, it would be nearly impossible to keep track of him.

            River was silently awed at the way her and the Doctor wordlessly fell into sync. They moved as one, hugging the walls of buildings and shrinking back into the darkness as they kept the man just in their sights. When she was away from the Doctor, she often forgot how well they worked as a team. Now, it was impossible to deny. It was as if they were made to be by each other’s side.

            Finally, River noticed the buildings thinning and realised that they were coming up to the Seine River. The suspicious man entered a hotel on the edge of the river and the Doctor and River followed him into the lobby only moments later. River immediately scanned the space and noticed that the man was not in sight, but the elevator doors were just closing together. Once again without a word, she turned in tandem with the Doctor towards the stairwell. The sonic screwdriver began to emit a low hum as the Doctor led the way, taking two steps at a time.

            “Here!” the Doctor exclaimed, rushing through a door that led to the third floor. There was a young man at the end of the hallway holding a keycard up to a room door. By the way the Doctor sped up, River was sure it was the man they had been following. He took one glance in the Doctor and River’s direction and fumbled with the door handle before practically throwing himself inside the room and slamming the door shut. The Doctor reached the door just after it shut and used the sonic to unlock it.

            The Doctor strode into the hotel room with his sonic pointed in front of him and River following on his heels. The man’s eyes widened when he saw the Doctor and he pressed his back up against sliding glass doors that led out onto a balcony.

            “Hello,” the Doctor said to the man as he cowered away from him. “I’m the Doctor.” He waved his screwdriver over him and frowned.

            “What-what’s he doing?” the man asked nervously, looking from River to the Doctor.

            “Just scanning you, nothing to worry about. Unless you’re an alien bent on taking over the Earth, in which case you should be _very_ worried,” River said with a smile.

            “I’m not an alien!” the man exclaimed, and his American accent became clear. “Look, my name’s Joe, I work for—”

            “What do you have in your pocket?” the Doctor asked.

            The man’s eyebrows rose to his forehead. “You mean this?” He pulled a flat black disk out of his pocket, measuring only a few inches across. “I don’t know what it is, only found it yesterday.”

            “Found it where?” The Doctor grabbed the item from Joe’s hands and ran his sonic screwdriver over it.

            Joe looked at River as if asking for help.

            “Just answer the question.”

            He turned back to the Doctor and straightened up, some of the fear seeming to wear off. He pushed his dark hair off of his forehead and wiped his hand over his brow. “A coffee shop. Someone left it on the table so I took it.”

            “Rather than giving it to someone who worked at the shop?” the Doctor asked with a frown.

            Joe shrugged. “I thought it was harmless.”

            “This is far from harmless.”

            “What is it?” River asked, stepping to the Doctor’s side so she could get a good look at he object in his hands.

            “It’s an Auton receiver. Another few hours and every single plastic thing in Paris would have become alive.”

            “Autons? But how could they be here?”

            The Doctor sighed. “I don’t know.” He looked up and his head cocked slightly to the side. “Do you mind if we use your balcony?” he asked, already stepping towards it.

            “Go…ahead?” Joe said, though his nervousness made it sound more like a question. He took one more look at River and the Doctor and then bolted out of the room and back into the hallway.

            “You’d better be quick about it,” River said as she trailed behind the Doctor. “He’ll be back soon with…” But she lost her train of thought as she paused next to the Doctor on the small balcony. The Seine was like a smooth sheet of ice below them, only faint ripples on the surface telling of moving waters. Straight ahead, a tip of the sun poked out above the horizon. Birds chirped and called from all around, and the sky was painted with hues of red, orange, and pink.

            River grabbed the Doctor’s arm as he waved the sonic screwdriver around. “Doctor.”

            “Hm?” He lowered his arm and looked over at her. She nodded towards the sunrise and he followed her gaze. “A new day,” he said, scanning Joe’s device again. “Maybe the last day if I don’t figure out where the Autons are hiding.”

            River sighed and shook her head. The beauty of the sunrise was completely lost on him; he had seen so many that they were just a fact of nature now. But as River looked into the distance, she couldn’t help but think of the day when the sun on Darillium would rise, and her time with the Doctor would be over.

            But this wasn’t their last sunrise. This was their _first_ sunrise of twenty-four years.

            Though the Doctor was once again absorbed in whatever he was doing, River leaned over and pecked a kiss on his cheek.

            He froze and frowned at her. “What was that for?”

            River smiled at him. “The sunrise.”


	6. Paris Sketches: Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll notice that this chapter is very silly and lighthearted, because that's exactly how the second movement of Paris Sketches sounds. But it fit really well with the Doctor and River making an escape, because I feel like those two always end up in ridiculous situations like this. 
> 
> (I'm especially proud of how the Doctor's last line/action lines up with the end of the movement! :P) 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

_**Movement 2: "Pigalle"** _

            River heard sirens in the distance.

            Her heart began to beat quicker, pounding in her ears, but it wasn’t fear that made her blood pump faster; it was pure adrenaline.

            River glanced back over her shoulder at the room door Joe had left wide open. “I really hope you’re almost done,” she said as she turned back towards the Doctor, watching him use the sonic screwdriver on the Auton receiver again.

            “No, no,” the Doctor muttered. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

            “What doesn’t? Can’t you disable it?”

            The Doctor huffed and shoved his screwdriver back inside his jacket. He held up the Auton receiver for River to see. “That’s just it. I disabled it with one blast from the screwdriver.”

            “Lovely,” River said, grabbing his wrist and turning back toward the room. “I think it’s time we were going, then.”

            “No, that’s the point.” He planted his feet and waved the disc in front of River’s face. “It shouldn’t be that easy. Something with that amount of power has to have a source.”

            “You couldn’t find it?” River asked in a rush, aware of the wailing sirens getting louder.

            “It’s not anywhere close by. I need a bigger scanner.” He turned and looked out into the distance. “We need to get back to the TARDIS.”

            Suddenly the sirens stopped. River tugged on the Doctor’s arm and he followed her straight through Joe’s room and into the hallway. The Doctor shook off River’s hold and ran ahead of her with surprising agility for one who looked so old, though River couldn’t help but notice that he also looked like some sort of ridiculous penguin. She opened her mouth to comment, but the Doctor skid to a halt in front of the stairwell door. River paused just behind him and heard a troupe of loud footsteps marching up the stairs.

            River spun around and punched the button for the elevator, watching the stairwell door for a few agonising seconds that seemed like hours until the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. River hopped in first and the Doctor trailed in behind her, immediately jamming his finger against a button several times until the doors began to close. Just as the doors sealed together, River heard the stairwell door burst open followed by voices exclaiming loudly.

            As the elevator descended the Doctor positioned himself just in front of the doors, his body tense and ready to spring into action. River took her place beside him with a similar stance, watching a panel above the buttons that counted down numbers as they passed floors. Luckily it was quick, and River calculated that the policemen would reach the lobby about the same time they did.

            As soon as the elevator doors opened the Doctor and River were off like a shot, paying no heed to the policemen that came barging through the stairwell door.

            “Stop!” one of them called. But they kept running out of the lobby and straight into the street, where a car squealed on its breaks and honked at them as they crossed the road.

            “Okay,” River panted as she ran side by side with the Doctor, watching people on the sidewalk part to allow them to pass, “If we go right here, then take a detour through—”

            “We can’t outrun them,” the Doctor said, cutting her off.

            River elbowed a pedestrian out of the way, not even hesitating in her stride. “Of course we can. If anyone knows how to run from the police in Paris, it’s me.”

            The Doctor glanced over at her with a frown and an ‘I don’t want to know’ sort of look and then shifted his gaze forward again. “I have a better idea.”

            “I seriously doubt it.”

            Sirens started up again. The Doctor shifted his direction to the left and cut across another busy street where they were almost run over again. River followed his gaze and realised where he was headed. “How is this going to help us?”

            “They won’t follow us.”

            “But they’ll know exactly where we are!”

            He reached back and grabbed her hand, as if fearing she wouldn’t follow. “We don’t have another choice.”

            “If you would just listen—” But sirens drowned out her voice and she glanced over her shoulder to see two police cars not far behind. She sighed and shook her head, allowing the Doctor to lead her towards the Seine River.

            “Hold your breath!” the Doctor called over his shoulder as they reached the edge of the water. He jumped right in without even a pause, and River took a moment to sigh once more before leaping in after him. She plunged right into the icy water, goosebumps cropping up over her whole body as she was submerged. She kicked her legs and swam up to the surface, taking in a precious gulp of air. Her hair weighed her head down and she was glad she couldn’t see how her spectacular outfit, including hair and makeup, had been ruined.

            The Doctor’s head popped up a few feet away, his hair dark and flattened out. His coat glistened with water droplets and he flung a spray from his sleeve as he pointed behind her. “See?”

            River turned to see police officers at the edge of the river, watching them in confusion. One of them brought a radio up to his lips and River turned back toward the Doctor.

            “Like I said, now we’re sitting ducks.”

            The Doctor quirked an eyebrow at her. “You haven’t seen how fast I can swim.”

            “I don’t care how fast you swim, they’ll send boats and helicopters after us. We need something faster.” She spied a dock close by and nodded at it. “That boat.”

            The Doctor’s entire expression contorted into a disapproving frown. “But—”

            “No time to argue. You’re the one who got us into this mess, which means that now I have to fix it.” River swallowed a deep breath and swam Olympic-style towards the boat she had seen, knowing the Doctor would be behind her. Once she was fairly close, she paddled the rest of the way and pulled herself up onto a wooden dock. A white boat sat gleaming in front of her, and with its spotless paint job, it was most likely brand new. What a pity.

            River jumped into the boat and pulled out her new sonic screwdriver from the pocket of her dress. She went straight to the wheel and used the sonic screwdriver to remove a panel underneath it. As she waved the sonic over the wires inside, she was pleased to hear that her screwdriver made the same silly noise that the Doctor’s did. She smiled to herself as the boat’s engine roared to life.

            “What are you doing?” the Doctor grunted as he hefted himself onto the dock.

            “Getting us out of here.” She nodded over at where the boat was tied to the dock. “Make yourself useful and untie those knots.” The Doctor set to work immediately and River undid the knots closest to her. Once they finished, they both hopped on the boat and River jumped to the wheel to push up the accelerating lever.

            The ever-present sirens grew closer.

            “Let’s hope this is a fast one.”

            “River, I really don’t think—”

            But then she really hit the gas, and they were flying down the Seine. The Doctor lost his footing and toppled backwards into a row of seats. River glanced back to make sure she hadn’t lost him and laughed at the appalled look on his face.

            “You’d better hang on to something, Sweetie.”

            “You were right about the boats,” the Doctor called over the rush of the wind.

            A loud, rhythmic noise started up further away. “And the helicopter,” she replied.

            As they cut through the water, River watched the shore, trying to gauge how far they had walked away from the TARDIS to get to the hotel. Once she figured they were at least reasonably close, she slowed up and brought the boat next to a large dock with several boats anchored around. She jumped over the edge of the boat and landed with a hollow thump on the dock. The Doctor landed beside her a moment later.

            “This way,” River said, starting down a street she thought looked familiar.

            The sirens grew to a crescendo. As they turned down an alleyway, policemen jumped out of their cars and ran after them, their feet pounding on the pavement.

            “I really hope you remember where you parked.”

            “I always remember.” He ran across the road they had passed when they had first walked out of the TARDIS and she followed behind as oncoming traffic honked at them. When River looked over her shoulder, she saw the police hesitating on the side of the road. She pressed onward and saw the TARDIS waiting just ahead.

            The Doctor paused right outside of the time and space machine to grab his key and unlock the door. He rushed inside the TARDIS, River right on his heels. She closed the door behind her and leaned back against it, breathing hard. The Doctor paused halfway to the console and took in shallow breaths, bending over and bracing himself on his knees. He ran a hand through his sopping hair and then seemed to remember something. He quickly strode back towards her.

            “Doctor?” River asked, stepping out of the Doctor’s way as he reached out and pulled the door open just enough to poke his head outside.

            “You might want to stand back,” the Doctor advised before shutting the TARDIS door in the faces of the Paris police.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try and get the next chapter up as soon as possible, but I've been really busy recently so I can't promise exactly when. Thank you for reading! :)


	7. Paris Sketches: The Timeless Waltz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I'm SO SORRY! I know this update has taken forever and I feel terrible. Please have this extremely long chapter with lots of Third Doctor references for some reason and dancing. I promise that the next update won't take nearly as long! Thank you for hanging in there!

**_Movement 3: Père Lachaise_ **

            River laughed at the impossibility of it all. She had missed this.

            The Doctor ran to the console and started punching in buttons seemingly at random. He looked up at the monitor, a frown etching itself into the wrinkles on his face.

            “What is it?” River asked, finally catching her breath. She walked over to the console and stood beside him so she could get a good look at the monitor.

            “Sometimes I hate it when I’m right.” He pointed to a pulsing green dot on the screen. “That’s the source. The real Auton receiver.”

            “It’s huge,” she said, examining the readings that ran across the bottom of the screen.

            “And almost fully operational,” the Doctor added. “Right now it can power smaller devices and bits of plastic, but in less than twenty-four hours it could turn this entire city into chaos.” He reached down to the console and pulled on a lever. The TARDIS’ engines started up and River quickly reached beside him to press the button that turned the brakes off.

            The Doctor shot her a dark look. River shrugged. “I can’t stand seeing you pilot her the wrong way.”

            “It’s not wrong,” he muttered as the TARDIS landed silently.

            “And yet your TARDIS is the only one in the universe that makes that noise.” She started walking back towards the corridor and smiled to herself. If there was one thing she loved, it was getting the Doctor riled up.

            There was a moment of silence where she imagined him standing his ground and getting ready to argue. “Where are you going?”

            “To change.” She started wringing out her hair and watched water pool on the floor beneath her. “Thanks to your brilliant plan, my best dress is soaked and my hair is a disaster.”

            River heard shoes squeaking on the TARDIS floor as the Doctor caught up to her. “I suppose the Autons might not take me seriously if I save Paris in sopping wet clothes, will they?”

 

            River examined the monitor on the TARDIS console to see where they were. She had put on more practical clothes since it didn’t seem like breakfast was happening any time soon: a short dress with pockets, leggings, and combat boots. Stylish, flattering, and yet the outfit allowed her to move freely and run quickly if needed.

            “A cemetery?” she asked out loud, though the Doctor was taking his sweet time to change.

            “Not just any cemetery.” His voice startled her a little; she still wasn’t quite used to it. She looked over to see him walking in from the corridor, now donning a black coat similar in shape to his red one, left open to reveal a grey hoodie underneath.

            And she had thought a fez was bad.

            The Doctor paused next to her. She allowed her gaze to travel up to his face and noticed that his hair was a bit different too. His curls were larger, less controlled.

            “What?”

            River frowned at him. “I’m not going anywhere with you dressed like that.”

            His eyes grew wide and he looked down at himself. “What’s wrong with this?” he asked, meeting her eyes again.

            “I could make a list. You look like an old granddad who sits at home and watches telly every day in the same old rumpled jumper.”

            She could almost see him weighing the pros and cons in his head, whether to listen to her advice or keep arguing. His gaze flicked to the monitor and he kicked into gear, shrugging off his outer coat and tossing it onto the console, grumbling under his breath.

            River couldn’t help but notice how different he looked without his coat. His jumper exaggerated the scrawniness of his figure, making him look several shades less imposing. If it weren’t for the eyebrows, there might not even be anything left to demand respect.

            The Doctor seemed to purposefully avoid her gaze as he pulled the jumper over his head, now left with only a thin graphic t-shirt depicting a few planets suspended in the midst of stars. The Doctor glanced at her, and, no doubt realising she had been staring at him the entire time, his cheeks turned red. But she couldn’t look away from this entirely different side of the Doctor, now with his pale, skinny arms exposed too. She wondered, for a fleeting moment, if anyone had seen him this casual before.

            Before she could gawk at him for too long, he shrugged his coat back on again. “Better?” he asked, spreading his hands before buttoning up his coat to hide the t-shirt.

            “I suppose it’ll do.”

            He rolled his eyes and brought the monitor in front of him. “Père Lachaise,” he said, continuing his explanation from earlier before she had commented on his choice of clothing. “The biggest cemetery in Paris.”

            “I’ll go take a look, shall I?” River walked towards the doors, ready for some action. Sometimes it took the Doctor a minute to feel the same way; he liked to analyse everything first.

            The Doctor didn’t respond, too distracted by the readings on the monitor. River went out the TARDIS door and into twilight in Paris.

            The graveyard was _huge._ River had never been here before; it was surprising given how many times she had visited Paris. She wondered where the receiver was. Underground, most likely.

            But before she could think through it any further, arms grabbed her from behind and held her in a vice-like grip. It wasn’t the first time River had almost been kidnapped; she had lost count somewhere over a hundred. She immediately brought her heel down hard on the attacker’s foot, but the arms holding her tight only twitched. She then tried elbowing in the ribs and then hitting her head back against the attacker’s, but it only succeeded in ensuring she would have a splitting headache in a few minutes. It was almost like hitting a brick wall.

            Obviously not human then. And considering what they were dealing with…

            “Doctor!” she called, hoping he had switched the monitor to a view of the outside. “The Autons are—”

            While one arm still held a firm grip around her waist, the stranger’s free hand clamped over her mouth. River didn’t bother trying to bite the hand away; she’d only succeed in hurting herself.

            Just then the TARDIS door creaked open and the Doctor stepped out. Guessing from the way his eyes widened when he saw her, he hadn’t been watching on the monitor. His expression turned grim, and a fire lit in his eyes.

            _The oncoming storm,_ River thought. She couldn’t help but feel pleased that he was being protective over her; it was especially attractive in this Doctor.

            “So,” he said in a conversational tone, looking just past River, “you’re not human.” He frowned. “I’d like to know how you fooled my sonic screwdriver.”

            River wondered at his words until the man who held her replied, “Yeah, you’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”

            She recognised the voice immediately. It was Joe, the man who had been carrying the Auton receiver.

            The Doctor sighed. “You planned all of this, didn’t you? You wanted me to find you, and the smaller receiver. You wanted me to come here.”

            “Very good, Doctor,” Joe said, his voice devoid of the nervousness that had tainted his every word earlier.

            “Why?”

            “We know who you are. We detected the artron energy as soon as you landed here. It was easy to make you believe you came up with the idea of coming here, when really I was the one who predicted your every move.”

            The Doctor scoffed. “And this is your way of keeping me from stopping you? One half-human Auton threatening my wife?”

            To River’s surprise, Joe released her. She gulped in a breath of air, her ribs aching from the crushing grip. She turned to see a smirk on Joe’s face.

            “Just a show to ensure you stayed put.”

            River felt a sizzle of energy around them. She looked for the source, but could see nothing. She reached for her sonic screwdriver in her pocket but the Doctor was already one step ahead, scanning the surrounding area. Joe seemed entirely unconcerned, standing a few feet away with his hands behind his back as he watched the Doctor expectantly.

            “And…?” River asked as the Doctor examined the screwdriver’s readings.

            “Energy field. Even the TARDIS can’t leave this graveyard. Because that’s what you really want, isn’t it?” he asked, raising his voice. “You don’t need me; you just want the TARDIS.”

            Joe grinned. “An almost infinite power source, and time and space travel at our fingertips.”

            “Who exactly are you working for?” River asked. He seemed to be connected with the Consciousness because of his uses of ‘our’ and ‘we,’ but he was unlike any Auton she’d ever encountered. “I’ve never seen an Auton like you. How many of you are there?”

            “Using the power of the time machine, there will be millions of us in a matter of minutes.”

            River shared a glance with the Doctor. Joe’s answer was supposed to guide their thoughts in a different direction, but they had both caught the dodge: right now there were very few of them.

            “One problem with that,” the Doctor said. “What makes you think I’ll give you the key?”

            Joe walked forward, still smiling, and shrugged. River got an idea and reached into her pocket for her favourite weapon; it was a long shot, as she wasn’t sure just how human Joe was, but it was worth a try. The least it could do was distract him.

            “I’ll kill her if you don’t,” Joe said.

            “You’ll kill us both anyway,” the Doctor countered.

            Joe seemed delighted, the curl of his lips starting to look much crueler than a smile. “It’s your choice to make.”

            River clutched the tube of lipstick in her hand. “If we don’t have a chance either way, am I allowed to say goodbye to my husband?”

            Joe rolled his eyes. “Sure, but make it quick.” His eyes remained trained on her as she uncapped the lipstick and applied it quickly with a practiced hand. She couldn’t even begin to count how many times she had done this.

            River felt a tingle on her lips. She was immune to its hallucinogenic properties of course, but the sensation gave her confidence that maybe this would work. She pocketed the tube and turned to the Doctor.

            She placed a hand over his right heart and, coincidentally, the pocket where he kept his sonic screwdriver. “Central nerve,” she told him, knowing his mind would be in the same place as hers.

            He rolled his eyes. “I know. I’m not going to enjoy watching this,” he grumbled.

            River beamed at him. “I do love it when you’re jealous.” Then she sprang towards Joe, grabbed the lapels of his shirt, and pulled his lips to hers.

            She had kissed some androids before, and loads of robots, but an Auton was new. She couldn’t say it was a pleasant experience, but it was definitely effective. Joe strained against her and started to break her hold for only a moment before his body relaxed. River held on a bit longer, just in case, and then released him. There was a faraway, dreamy look in the Auton’s eyes, as if he didn’t even see her.

            The Doctor appeared beside Joe, wielding his sonic screwdriver, and began running it all over the dazed Auton.

            River watched his methodical progress. “You’d better be quick about it. He’s human enough for it to work, but his programming will take over soon.”

            “There isn’t a central nerve,” the Doctor announced. “I’m beginning to wonder how they made him.”

            River grabbed her screwdriver and confirmed what the Doctor had already stated. She always liked to do things herself, just in case. Sometimes he missed the obvious. “You think he was originally human?”

            “Stuffed with plastic bits and connected to the Consciousness. Could be. Probably why my sonic didn’t detect anything unusual about him.”

            Joe started to blink faster, his head slightly shaking from side to side.

            “We need to find a better way to incapacitate him,” River said, reaching for her lipstick again.

            The Doctor’s arm whipped out and he slammed the side of his hand against Joe’s neck. The Auton’s eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed onto the grass. The Doctor shook out his hand.

            “I wasn’t sure if that would work. I’m a bit rusty on my Venusian aikido.”

            “Now the others are going to come inspect why his mind was cut off from their Consciousness.” River shot a glare at him.

            The Doctor raised his eyebrows. “Exactly.” He dashed towards the TARDIS and River followed, wondering what he had in mind.

            “You have a plan for how to get rid of all of them at once?” she asked as she closed the TARDIS door behind her. “You don’t have explosives packed away in here somewhere, do you?”

            “No.” He jogged down the stairs to the space below the console. “But I have a plan!” he called back up to her.

            While River waited on whatever he was doing, she searched for Auton life signs on the monitor. Sure enough, there were five signals closing in on the TARDIS from all different locations.

            “They’re coming!” River called.

            “Can they get through the energy field?” the Doctor replied.

            River watched as the forms came closer. A glowing purple colour outlined the energy field that encompassed the graveyard, and the white dots that signaled the Autons passed right through it.

            “Yes!”

            The Doctor suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs with a large toolbox in hand and a grin on his face. “Perfect.”

            Music suddenly drifted into the console room, and it took River a moment to realise it was coming from the other monitor, which was acting as a scanner to show a live feed from outside. A soft, slow waltz, played by the mellow tones of an alto saxophone, drifted through the speakers from somewhere across the street.

            The Doctor seemed not to notice the music as he approached the console and pried a panel out from underneath it. “All right Old Girl,” he said, patting the edge of the console, “I’m going to need some cooperation from you for this one.” A mess of wires spilled out onto the metal grating, and at the sight of the inner workings of the TARDIS console, River knew exactly what he was doing.

            “The chameleon circuit,” River said in awe, “you’re _finally_ repairing it? Now?”

            “Temporarily.” He sorted through a thick stack of cables and came across one that had been severed. “And I’m not just repairing it, I’m enhancing it. I’m going to be able to tell the TARDIS exactly what to disguise herself as.”

            River crossed her arms over her chest. “She’s not going to like that.”

            “It doesn’t have to hold for long. Just long enough for her to turn into something plastic.”

            River had to admit, it was a clever idea, though she wasn’t about to tell him that. His ego was big enough already. “Well if that’s your idea for getting the TARDIS out of here, then I have an idea for stopping the Autons.”

            “Don’t take too long,” the Doctor said, glancing up at her. “This will only take a few minutes.”

            River shook her head as she walked out of the console room. She was betting twenty minutes, no less. Hopefully her idea wouldn’t take as long.

            She walked through the TARDIS corridors, looking for the right door while idly humming the tune from the street. She realised that the song was familiar, though she couldn’t quite place where she had heard it before.

            Before too long, River came across a door marked with a “3” in between similar doors with a “2” and a “4” on either side of it. She walked in and inhaled the scent of a different time, the distinct smell of the Seventies.

            It was difficult not to immediately get distracted by all of the miscellaneous items scattered throughout the room. From pictures, to clothes, to outrageous scientific projects, to various trinkets, it was clear to her that this time in the Doctor’s life was one where he had collected lots of things to remember it by.

            She walked over to the area where the equipment and experiments seemed to be generally piled into and started digging. River couldn’t help but laugh at some of the contraptions she came across; what on _Earth_ had the Doctor been thinking when he had designed some of these?

            But she remembered that face, so eager, so scientifically minded. If he had spent just a little more time stuck on Earth, he probably would have advanced the human race hundreds of years beyond where they were now with his inventions and ideas. And he would have _loved_ it.

            River continued to sift through bits of metal and half-finished projects until she grabbed an army knapsack in her hand, its main compartment full of wires and other electronic equipment. She gasped with delight, and then uncovered an identical sack not far from that one that had a cord protruding from the power pack it held. A bit of a further dig unearthed a device that looked like a microphone with a plug on the end of its cord that attached to the first sack.

            River grinned at her find. Liz Shaw had told her about this, the contraption she and the Doctor had used to stop the first Auton invasion. It was just as ridiculous as she had described it.

            This was a bit old school, but it would have to do.

            River gathered the packs and cords into her arms and stood. As she began to walk away, she brushed up against a red velvet coat hanging on a hook that protruded from the wall. She stopped and looked at it, noting the frilly white shirt that hung just beside it.

            The song from the street came back into her head, but this time, it was a memory.

 

            _“So, Miss Song.” As the Doctor took a sip of his wine, River allowed herself to smile but held back the giggle that was begging to escape from her lips. This face was so absurdly formal._

_“I take it you’ve been to Paris before?” he continued._

_“Oh yes, I love it here.” She was still trying to feel him out, figuring out the personality behind this outrageously clothed, white haired body. “And what about you, Doctor?”_

_He smiled a little. “Once, with my granddaughter.”_

_“She must have loved it.” River always gathered anything about Susan Foreman that she could; the Doctor spoke so little about her because it pained him too much._

_A warm smile lit up his face. River thought it was a wonderful smile, and it was one she knew she would remember. “It was one of her favourite places on Earth.” He chuckled. “Although I can’t say that Jo shares her enthusiasm.”_

_River thought back to how she and Jo had, only hours before, been crawling through the sewers and dodging energy bolts from bloodthirsty aliens. River laughed along with the Doctor. “It’s hard to love a place when you’re being chased around by aliens.”_

_“Yes,” the Doctor mused, swirling around the crimson liquid in his glass, “maybe once this whole business is sorted out, I can convince the Brigadier to give us a holiday.”_

_Music started up in the courtyard they were sitting in, and River noticed a small ensemble, led by a saxophone player. They began to play a slow waltz, and the Doctor hardly wasted a few seconds before he stood and stretched out a hand towards her.  
            “Would you do me the honour, madam?” _

_Once again, his elegant politeness made River almost burst out with laughter. She wondered if he would treat her the same way if he knew who she was._

_River kept herself composed and smiled, taking his hand. As they assumed their positions, River asked, “I assume you know how to waltz?”_

_“Miss Song,” the Doctor said indignantly, his eyes flashing with pride, “of course I know how to waltz.”_

You don’t always, _she thought to herself. But he hadn’t been lying; in fact, out of all of the Doctors she had danced with (which, at this point, was a fair few) he was definitely the best dancer._

_“You still haven’t quite explained how you know me,” the Doctor commented as they danced smoothly across the courtyard._

_“I know.” She grinned. “Spoilers.”_

_“You’re someone from my future, I know that much. There’s something about you…” He frowned, and she could practically see the gears turning in his brain. She almost felt sorry for him; no matter how he tried, he wasn’t going to be able to place the feeling that he knew her from somewhere. She had met enough Doctors now to know that this happened every time._

_“I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you anything else.”_

_The Doctor sighed. “Yes, I know.” He seemed to brighten up a bit. “Jo has an idea about it, you know.”_

_River raised her eyebrows. The companions were usually much more perceptive on this point than the Doctor. “What is it?”_

_He chuckled. “She thinks that you’re my wife from the future, or something like that.”_

Not bad, Jo, _River thought. “Imagine that,” she said softly, wishing that he could know the truth._

_The Doctor remained oblivious as he held her close. “Yes, imagine that.”_

River brushed her hand against the velvet jacket, remembering just how it had felt that day. Her Doctor now had one very similar to it, but she had failed to make the connection before.

            She shook her head, remembering the task at hand, and pulled herself from the room and its memories.

            River arrived back in the console room to find a shower of sparks spraying from the console. “I told you she wouldn’t like it.”

            The Doctor’s head poked up above the console, black smudges coating his face. He looked thoroughly confused as he focused on what she carried, but then his expression stretched into realisation.

            “I remember those!” he exclaimed, jumping to his feet and grabbing one of the knapsacks. He smiled wide, revealing all of his teeth as he examined the old technology in his hands. “Oh,” he laughed excitedly, “this is fantastic! This might actually work!” He turned to her and frowned. “How did you know about these?”

            “I ran into Liz Shaw once. She told me about some of your ridiculous inventions.”

            “They’re not ridiculous if they work.” He tossed the sacks onto the console, completely abandoning his other project, and sorted through the wires. “If I can just boost the power…”

            “You didn’t recognise the song, did you?” River asked, realising that it was no longer playing.

            “The waltz?” he asked as he plugged a cable into the console. “No.”

            “It was in your third incarnation.” She laughed a little. “We danced in the middle of an alien invasion.”

            The Doctor rubbed hand over his cheek as he examined something on the monitor. “I…I think I remember…a bit.”

            River sighed. It was a little unfair that she got to see all of his incarnations, but he could never remember their meetings. It took half the fun out of it.

            The next thing she knew, the song was playing again and the Doctor was taking her in his arms. Her feet automatically stepped in time with the rhythm before she could take in what was happening.

            “What are you doing?”

            “Dancing in the middle of an alien invasion.” He smiled, and it was so close to the smile from that younger Doctor, his eyes even crinkling at the corners. “Miss Song,” he added, and the smile widened into a grin that belonged to this face only. It could only be described as a silly grin, perfect for her silly old Doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is brought to you in part by my intense desire for Big Finish to make one of the Diary of River Song audios with Tim Treloar and Katy Manning! Please, Big Finish, pleeeeease...
> 
> Stay tuned for the epic conclusion of the Paris Sketches story!


End file.
